howlingplayground | (no subject)

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Misa is waiting in the only place she can be hidden and not found on this Death Star: Lord Vader's quarters. She'd tried to meditate earlier and had been, well, poked because the Emperor would be able to find her then. She hates not having anything to do, but apparently, her nervous energy blends in with all the other nervous energy on this... horrific monstrosity.

She sighs and leans against the door, her head tilted back as she stares at the ceiling. She concentrates just enough to know that a fight has started. So. Skywalker had shown up? Good. But that doesn't mean that she's not going to help. Oh, she's not stupid enough to go marching into the throne room and trying to decapitate Palpatine - though it's tempting - but she knows that her Lord cannot survive this without her. Her visions had shown her that much, though she's not sure what to think about them.

Another sigh as she begins to pace again. She needs to get out of here, to get somewhere... Her head snaps up. Something had happened to her Lord. Something... Alarms start going off all over the Death Star and she says his orders be damned, she's not staying here. He needs her.

The entire base is in disarray. Stormtroopers and officers are running all which way. She doesn't care about them. She needs to find him. Racing down corridors that she doesn't find familiar, trailing his fading Force presence, Misa is not going to let him die. She doesn't know that she can help him, but she's going to try!

She skids around a corner, slamming into a trio of Stormtroopers that fall as she uses the Force to right herself. Palpatine is dead. She can tell that. He's dead! She stops, reorienting herself and then dashes off again, sliding around another corner. THERE! There he is. Being helped by... Who is that?

But then the guy falls, and she can't hear what he's saying to her Lord as she pounds her way through the people between them and her. She skids to her knees, just as he's reaching for the helmet. "Don't!" She says, panting. "Don't, you'll kill him!" She puts her hand on Lord Vader's shoulder. "And I'm not going to let you die." She whispers as the Force flows through her, slowly - painstakingly slowly - trying to stabilize her Lord. "We need to get him on the ship and into his bed." She says, not looking at the man who had been carrying Vader. "Please, help me." She waves at the black shuttle that is Lord Vader's private ship that they'd been headed for.

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He takes a moment before unstrapping himself and coming back. The landing had been fine, the least momentous thing that's happened in the past forty-eight hours.

But it might turn out to be the first step on something even more significant. Because this is the first act he's committed that does not have a destined end. Oh, whatever the Force has in mind, he'll learn. But this is not the end of anything. It's not the consequence of an avalanche that had begun when he'd brought Artoo into the workshop. It's something new, the thing that comes after.

And it's actually been years since Luke has thought about 'after' in anything but the dreamiest of terms.

Taking a deep breath, he steps to the back of the ship, taking in the apparatus keeping his father alive, thinking vaguely that this was not the way things were 'supposed' to have gone. He's fiercely grateful for that.

"You'll definitely not want to get caught in that," he says, eyeing her uniform. He doesn't know what it all means, or who she is, but he has no desire to pursue it right now. It's going to be enough of a challenge keeping Darth Vader alive--in more ways than one.

While she's searching for her clothes, he moves to his father's side. There is time, now, to take him in. To look at the fissures of scarring of what he can still see of the man's face. To be next to the sheer bulk of him, when he is not trying to run or fight or plead.

"Father," he says quietly, a lingering question in his voice. For as much as Anakin has done for him, there are still questions about what Luke is to him, exactly.

He knows she wouldn't willingly - or unwillingly in most cases - were the cheap, manufactured fabric Imperial uniforms are made from. He knows she's itching to get out of them. "Go find somewhere to change." It's a gentle dismissal but also about protecting Luke from objecting to Misa simply stripping into her actual clothing. The girl had been raised to have no body modesty when he'd found her. He'd long since had to give up his own in the face of medical droids - eventually, he'd been able to ignore the fact she was looking at him to strip and give her better access to what she was working on.

Being from Tatooine and not a slave, Luke...was likely unused to casual nudity.

"My son." Distantly, he is aware of another situation like this. Himself in Luke's place, his mother in his own. She'd called to him the same way. He wasn't really meaning to echo her, but he did understand now more the emotion behind the words. "My beautiful son." His. Padmé's. The beautiful, compassionate boy so like Anakin she'd claimed to know she was carrying. He offered up his hand, inviting him to close into the space. To be closer.

She stops, her shirt halfway up her back, when her Lord tells her to find somewhere to change. She glances at Luke and rolls her eyes. Look, she understands that there are people unused to casual nudity. She understands that some people have problems with those without body modesty. But she doesn't see the point of not just stripping and getting out of this crappy uniform.

But, she'd been given an order, so she gathers up her clothing and lowers the ramp to the ship. She'll step outside, and let them have a few moments of peace and privacy. No doubt she probably should eat, but there's only rations aboard, and well... she has a visceral reaction to them. Her mom has spoiled her when it comes to fresh food. She hates rations.

She finds a rock to sit on, once she's changed - now in a blue, backless and knee-length dress with bell sleeves, embroidered within an inch of its life with her boots on. She wonders if she can set fire to the officer's uniform she was wearing, just by willing it. (Probably not.) Instead, she hooks her saber on her belt and settles in to meditate. She can feel the exhaustion and pain radiating from the two men in the ship, but she doubts they'd welcome the intrusion right at the moment, even if it was for their own good. So, she does what she's usually expected to do: settle to meditate by doing her saber forms. Igniting the purple blade, she starts to work.

There's a reddish tinge to his cheeks, though it's dark in the main area of the ship. Is it the fact the girl had been about to strip? Or was it the later words of his father, inviting him, accepting him in?

Odd to think he craves it so, given the last time Vader had issued an invitation and Luke had rejected it with all the strength left to him. But this is different. Everything is different. He steps closer, unafraid, reaching for Anakin's hand and weaving his fingers between the gloved ones. This hand had caused so much death. And had saved his life. Luke's love for his father is the core of a thousand suns, steady and deep and unquestionable. But he does not know him.

"What she did," he begins, because there is so much to talk about but he is aware that he does not know how much time there is, "will it... cure you? Are you...?"

...going to live? he does not finish.

He reached out, locating Misa. Making sure, double checking, her location and her safety. He can almost feel her desire and he approves, for reasons different than her own. Burning the uniform would be a good signal of what she isn't.

Luke's fingers in his makes him sure to keep his touch light. Gentle. He still pulls, dragging Luke a bit closer to him. "She stabilized. There's no curing this body, Palpatine's plans hinged on that, on my not being able to survive outside the Empire and it's resources." But Vader had planned around him as best as possible and had worked around him. Had found a way. "I'm not going to die tonight at least." He knows the question. Tries to reassure without lying.

She can feel the pain and uncertainty from the men in the ship. She's always been like water on sand: spreading and seeking the nooks and crannies to touch everything. It's just the way her Force presence is. Lord Vader has taught her to contain it somewhat, but sometimes, she just doesn't and is just part of Life, and just is.

Here, on Endor, there's a lot more Life to get lost in, to be able to sense, than there is on Mustafar. She's spent the bulk of her time there, the last seven years.

But, she ignores their pain, just as Lord Vader taught her to - it makes her a better healer if she isn't so caught up in pain that she can't focus - and works through her saber combinations, settling her mind and her body. The time on the Death Star had taken its toll on her, hiding from Palpatine, hiding her existence half of her life, and blocking out all the emotions on that contraption.

She begins working up speed as she releases her emotions, finally. The fear, the worry, the anger at Palpatine dying before she could unleash on him for what he's done to Lord Vader over the years, for dying before she could visit some of the same damned torture he'd put Vader through.

But being here, knowing Vader is - mostly - safe, soothes her. The Life around them, soothes her nerves and although she speeds up, she's in control. She knows her Lord is keeping tabs on her, his presence is - believe it or not - a comfort to her. She sends him back the equivalent of a saucy wink - mental communication is something she cannot do, really, but impressions are easy enough - and keeps going.

Luke nods, taking that for what it's worth. He knows it won't be easy--in any sense. But he knows that he is there, and he will fight. And, apparently, so will the girl.

As will Anakin.

There is no fear in him now, no doubt. He believes in his father, believes that no matter how difficult, he has turned. That it is not simply possible, but true. The Dark Side is not permanent. And the certainty he feels, the unflagging loyalty, is palpable around him.

"Then we will stay here for the night," he says, "make a plan in the morning. What do you need? What do..." He glances over his shoulder at the hatch. "Who is she?"

Misa is as settled as current circumstances allow. She won't be truly settled until he is inside a Bacta tank, her parents near-by, and positions clarified. He knows this. He knows it will be some time - days in the least - until that is the case. There isn't much to be done there. His bacta tank had gone done on the I love Kriffing Stupid Ideas 2.0

While his attention is never completely off Misa - she's his and injured and with a limited physical range or not, he'd lethally defend was what his - he can shift more of his attention of Luke. Allows his presence to wrap around and bump against Luke. Not nearly as cold, as Dark, but not yet all warmth or Light - it's not a heel-turn, but a slow bleed that's been happening since he found out who Luke Skywalker was. ~~Padmé's son.~~ But he's reflecting warmth at least - hours ago, that wasn't the case.

"Time. Rest. Bacta eventually. You've done what we needed Luke." Was he saying his name a lot? Too much? He didn't know. He could say it openly, to the boy, and he enjoyed saying it, and how being in Luke's presence and saying his name made him feel. "Her name is Misa. I found her years ago when she was a child, and kept her instead of giving her over to Palpatine." The rest - the system she was from, that she'd been a slave - those things were for Misa to decide to share or not and to whom, not for him to tell.

Her Lord needs bacta. She's pondering it, as her body moves through the positions that he's taught her. He needs bacta and people he trusts to help him. Meaning she needs to get her parents and Aphra somewhere close by. While she can do the healing he needs, he can now actually heal and that will require bacta and strength she doesn't possess, sadly.

But will the Rebels give up precious bacta to someone they hated? Maybe they should head to Mustafar, and stay there. At least until Lord Vader is back on his feet. She can keep him stable and work on some of his other issues, while in hyperspace.

Feeling something approaching, she pauses in her work and waits, patiently, exuding nonthreatening. The small creature rustles the bush and steps into the light. Well, the small creature would make a decent meal for her and Skywalker. And she'll need to eat... Sighing, she flips her vibroknife and impales the creature through the head. Soft grey fur covers it and she runs her hands over it. It still hurts to kill, but she will not eat rations if she can help it.

The small creature, about the size of a Loth-cat, would have enough meat on it to serve the two of them. Putting the Imperial shirt back on, she quickly dresses the animal, even preserving the skin. Her dad will like it if nothing else. Then, she peels out of the bloody shirt and is relieved that no blood had landed on her dress. (She's ruined more outfits...)

Instead of going back to her meditation, she starts making camp for them, avoiding going back on the ship for as long as she can. But when she does, she hears Lord Vader give a very edited version of their relationship. "He saved me." She says, looking for a few things that her father had put on board just in case. Finding them, she smiles. "I killed something for dinner, since you should eat and I need to eat before I continue helping either of you." She is a bossy little thing when she's in full healer mode.

His mind is racing, and there are too many thoughts to handle at once--this is probably why he should be spending more time meditating, but he can't do that now. There is so much uncertainty ahead of them, so many things to be decided and figured out. The Death Star is gone, but the war is not over. His friends don't know what happened to him--they might even think he was on the station when it blew.

Would Leia feel it, if he had died? He can feel her, on this planet. Her presence is constant now, even more since he told her their secret.

But there's his father, who needs supplies. There's the girl, who Anakin 'kept' and Luke doesn't even know what that means. And there's the feeling radiating from Anakin, one Luke does not shy away from because he is no longer afraid of being 'tainted.' He has made one decision at least, and that is that he will never turn his father away. Or shut him out.

He turns to watch Misa as she rummages. "Surely we have rations," he says, a bit inanely but he's used to rations. Fresh meat is something he barely knows what to do with. "And I can get bacta from the Alliance. Whatever we need."

He has not, of course, thought any of this through.

Luke's response to Misa gets something akin to a laugh from him. "She'd rather eat her hand." Not that there were many rations aboard his ship - he didn't need them and stormtroopers carried their own. There'd be enough for one person, barely, and not split between two people. One of which needed calories due to healing him.

"And I'm not sure the Alliance will share an expensive supply with me. That's what she's worried about." It would serve him right to be refused, he knows. "I'll be fine without it for a while. It's not the first time I've had to wait." After Palpatine turned his temper on him, he means. No need to say that - he'd rather Misa have never known. He doesn't want Luke to know those details.

"She's correct in that you both need to eat."

She snorts. "My hand would taste better." She points out. Misa really hates rations. She'd had to eat them on the way to the Death Star; she's not eating them again, if she can possibly avoid it.

She cocks her head, her warmth and healing washing over Lord Vader once more. "I can keep him stable until we get him into some bacta, but he's right. The Alliance might not like giving such a resource to him." She's a nobody. She likes that. However, she's not naive when it comes to how people see her Lord. She knows that there are valid objections to him.

"Do you need any supplies?" She asks her Lord. She knows he'll never take nutrients while either of them are present, but she also knows he probably needs it. In fact, she knows he needs it. But she knows his pride, and doesn't even mention which supplies she means; he'll know.

She walks over and crouches next to Luke, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. She doesn't start to heal him, that would be rude. She doesn't even scan him, because again, rude. "You need healing too." She says gently. "I can help you, after we both eat, and maybe teach you something about healing at the same time?" She offers.

Luke's mouth sets into a little frown. "They're not that bad," he grumbles, but that's mostly because it's what he's used to. It does suddenly strike him that it's been at least 24 hours without food, maybe more. He's not sure anymore. He's been running on pure adrenaline and cussedness.

But he can't rest yet.

"I want to learn," he says earnestly. "It's not something I even knew was possible. My masters--" He cuts himself off, glancing at his father. There will be things to discuss.

Later.

"But I'm all right. Really. We need to figure out what we're going to do. My..." He swallows, glancing up at Anakin again. "My sister will be worried. My friends. I need to figure out how to ... what to tell them..."

It's a lot, especially after the past several hours.

"Only if you are used to homemade and made from scratch fresh food. Which she is." Yes, she's being snobby about food, and clothing, and he knows. It doesn't bother him - despite the utilitarianism of his clothing, the materials are of the highest quality, and honestly? Misa's desire for them reminded him of Padmé in a way that wasn't designed to cause pain. So he'd never attempted to curb it. Freema had taken care of her anyway - leading to Vader having to do nothing but bury the costs in his books.

And stealing from Palpatine? Was fun.

"Go check-in. Both of you." He'd be fine for a little while. "Luke you need to eat. And sleep." Misa didn't need to be told.

A daughter. Lord Vader has a daughter. While Misa is cognizant of her position - she's his pet healer - she'd always, buried deep in her heart of hearts, wanted to be more. She'd wanted him to look on her as more than just a useful person to have around. But all her training from her childhood comes to the fore. Be what he requires you to be. She remembers that as one of her first lessons. Do not interfere, do not presume, but be indispensable. Another early lesson that Habani had taught her.

So, she will be his pet healer. She will be indispensable, until such time as he requires her not to be. She can do that. She has always known that her position lasts only as long as he needs it to. It's up to her to change to remain useful.

She blinks at his admonishment. "I'll go check-in, first. That way I can finish setting up camp while he does." She has a feeling that Luke's 'check-in' is going to take longer than hers.

Standing, she walks up to the front of the ship, and keys in the codes. Of course, her mom answers, practically vibrating through the holo with worry. Misa reassures her that she's fine, Lord Vader is fine (though not said in so many words), and they'll send word when they know more. Her mom knows better than to question that. Misa doesn't want to give too much away, should the Alliance be listening in.

She walks back, once she's hung up with her mom. "All yours." She says, gathering more equipment that had mysteriously made it onto Vader's ship. (Thank you dad. Sometimes, she swears he has ForeSight.) "I'm going to start setting things up." She says, touching Luke's shoulder then going back outside to start.

In short order, meat will be over a small fire, a shelter set up (for Luke, she's slept worse than next to Lord Vader's table on his ship), and she'll be sitting, staring into the flames. She can't fully block out Lord Vader, but there are things he doesn't know, and she wants to ruminate on them for a moment.

He's aware of the way Misa pulls away, both physically and emotionally, and he swears he'll pay more attention to her. In a bit. She deserves it, but at this moment, there is so much swirling around him, so many thoughts and feelings to process, adding another person is difficult. And Vader, Anakin, his father is right here.

And he's so, so tired. He realizes that suddenly, that he doesn't remember really when last he had truly rested.

"I'll join you in a minute," he says to her retreating back, and becomes vaguely aware of her setting up camp--probably more than he actually requires. He turns back to his father, squeezing his hand again.

"We'll figure this out," he says. "I know it won't be simple. I'm not going to abandon the cause." He bites his lip. "But I'm never going to abandon you, either."

With that, he turns to the cockpit and the comms. He sits for a long moment, breathing deeply, trying to clear his mind of all the layers of confusion the past 48 hours have bred. And keys in the codes that will take him to Leia's comm.

She answered right away, but with a great deal of noise behind her, her voice breathless.

"Luke," she breathes out before he can greet her, and he smiles. Of course she knew. "I knew you had gotten off the Death Star. I knew it." Her voice holds a tremble that indicates she's known, but not believed, and that's okay. He barely did, himself.

"I did. And I'm okay, Leia. I'm just gonna need need some time." He explains that he was forced to land further away than he wanted, but didn't need a rescue. He hoped she believed him about needing time, that the Jedi mystery surrounding his actions would hold. And promise to tell her what had happened when he returned.

He did not like lying to her, but he did not see any this conversation ended well if it began, "I found our father, notorious war criminal, and he's alive."

He walks back to his father, presses his hand again. "I'll check on Misa," he murmurs, and walks out to the camp.

Luke wasn't the only one who noticed Misa had withdrawn, and Vader could guess at the cause. He would have rather have told her about Leia personally, but there hadn't been time or opportunity. He'd address it with her later but right now he can't.

And keeps Luke's hand until he squeezes it again, and (only somewhat) reluctantly allowed him to pull away to make his call, or calls. And tried to reassure himself that Luke wouldn't go to the trouble he has to allow the ship to be swamped with Rebellion troops now. If he's honest, he's more concerned about what would happen to Misa than himself - best case, he's too valuable to be summarily executed. Misa has no such protection, even if he won't allow her to be injured. Never mind if he does, the Rebellion may well be the least of the threat against his life.

Instead, he waits until she heads outside and takes advantage of Luke being distracted to brush against her, wrapping his presence around her possessively, almost with a snarl of 'mine'. It's less a scream and more a growl. Until Luke is settled for the night, it's as much as he can do to reassure her.

When Luke returns he's managed to pull himself up into a recline, and reaches out for him, to pull him in. He's not pleasant to be around - pulling back to what he was Before, he's still cold and Dark, still fighting his way back and all too well aware of the mythology of someone like him going from Jedi to Fallen Jedi to Sith and back. There is a danger to all of them if he fails.

He can't fail.

Beyond what he is in the Force, he's so much mechanical, padded and stiff that he only has a human form, not a feel. Too much armor and electronics to be mistaken for anything else. Still, he reaches out, squeezes Luke's hand and resists pulling him to sit with him. "Please do. But don't push her."

She's staring into the fire, when she feels that familiar presence wrap around her. You can't, really, lie through the Force, not when it comes to emotions. But she can reassure him that she's fine, and that everything will be okay. She doesn't know what the future holds - even the Force can only show possibilities - but she knows it won't be simple. The Rebellion, as much as she hates to admit it, has legitimate grievances against Lord Vader. He's done horrible things, even if some were done under duress.

She knows he cares for her - less so her parents. She knows that he will not allow anything to happen to her. But it's not him she's worried about. She's worried about what the Rebellion will do. About what his children will do. Luke seems to accept him, but will his daughter? And if she does, what does that mean for Misa? If this daughter doesn't accept him, what then? Too many questions, too many possibilities. It's giving her a headache.

When she feels Luke step outside the ship, she motions him over and offers him a Bothan peach. With dark red/purple outside, the bright pink middle is sweet and juicy. And it doesn't even have to be peeled. "Not sure how long the meat has, but there's a few things to eat." She doesn't turn to look at him, but her mouth twitches. "You can ask anything you want." She offers.

He'd let Anakin pull him closer, not resisting. He's exhausted, and maybe he'd be more wary if he had the strength left to worry--but he'd made his choice, and he had paid for it but his father had paid more and there's nothing left for him to doubt, between them. No matter what it feels like, or how little human flesh there is to feel. It doesn't matter. None of it matters.

He has a father.

But he must see to his other needs, and after promising he would not push, he finds Misa and takes the offered peach, staring at it for a moment as if its presence is a miracle.

"You don't need to tell me anything you don't want to," he says gently. "And the same goes this way. I know this... isn't how you saw your day going."

He's relieved Misa is trying to be reassuring herself, he knows she's withdrawing for a reason. And he needs to address that. But for the moment, he can enjoy holding on to his son. Eventually, he may be able to hold Luke outside this suit, to feel his son's head against his shoulder. His son.

There is a part of him that doesn't want to sleep, just in case this is another dream. He's not sure he would want to survive, if it were.

Instead, he keeps a light feel on the pair of them, and rests - while also sensing the area around them. Just in case.

Lord Vader is Paranoid. It deserves a capital letter. She knows this, so feeling his presence spread out, so to speak, is nothing unusual. He's Paranoid, with good reason. She understands, and wants him to rest, but he won't until they're truly safe.

Misa is also resisting the urge to go hover. He's hurt, minus a hand, and needs help - more than he's letting on. She's letting him be stoic and strong in front of his son - men have Pride after all, and it's not a little thing - but she is worried about the strain this is putting on him.

She stares at Luke, as his last sentence sinks in. Then, she sputters a bit, giggling. She hasn't lost her mind. She promises. "Are you kidding?" She asks, then she shakes her head, staring at the fire. "This was the absolute best case scenario. You're alive, you helped him, Palpatine," she spits the name out, "is dead, and he's off that contraption mostly in one piece. It doesn't get better than this." She says, softly. "If you hadn't helped him, that's why I was there. Just in case." And she's sorry she didn't get a chance to hurt Palpatine even in some minor way. "What he needs now is time and safety to recover." She's reinforcing the idea, because she doesn't want Luke to worry. She can handle Lord Vader's recovery. It's not the first time.

"I saw my day ending horrifically, and possibly with me dead, along with Lord Vader. To have it be like this?" She takes a deep breath and looks up at the trees. "I love it."

She turns to look critically at Luke, her dark eyes studying from head to toe. There's a gentle brush of warmth and light against his Force signature. She's doing a surface scan because she wants to know how badly he's injured. Luckily, it looks like he's not. Oh, there's probably a few surface burns, and he's going to ache after he sleeps no doubt, but he won't expire if he sleeps. She puts her hand on his gloved one, able to tell there's no flesh there. It doesn't bother her. She's been around Lord Vader for a little more than six years. Prosthetics just are.

"I met your father about six years ago. He... rescued me from a situation that no child should be in." She says softly. "And less than eight months later... I'm hearing about this pilot, who made a one in a million shot, and destroyed the first Death Star. He was proud of you for that. I want you to know that, so you know somewhat of what type of man he is. There are things about mine and Lord Vader's lives that I cannot tell you." She looks up into his blue eyes. "Not because you don't have a right to know, but because it's not my place to speak of them. But I will answer your questions if I can."

He cannot help but laugh gently, disbelievingly, at her words. Shaking his head, he follows her gaze up and around the trees, and then looks back down and deliberately puts his good hand over hers as it rests on his glove. She's warm in the Force too, despite everything she's been through--and he's certain it's been more than he can know.

"I didn't expect to live through today," he confesses. "That's why I laughed just now. I knew Father wouldn't kill me; but I assumed the Emperor would. Honestly, I hadn't made any plans after tonight. So yeah, I understand you... just being here is amazing."

He takes a deep breath.

"You don't have to worry that I'm going to let anything happen to him. Or you. I don't know yet how, or what we'll do. But I didn't... I haven't gone through all of this just to throw it away. You don't need to worry." He narrows his eyes, watching her. "Or fuss over me."

Vader himself hadn't wanted to die. It's not that he doesn't understand people die, he does, of course. And despite Misa's visions and worries, he was willing to die if he had to save Luke from the fate Palpatine had planned for him. He resented it heavily, the indignity of dying under Palpatine's hand but he had accepted it might be a reality. But it hadn't been THIER reality and he was...

happy? Relieved certainly and for all he was paranoid, he was relaxed in a way Misa wouldn't have ever known him to be. Luke's mirth caused a shift in his attention, that bright, almost blinding Light he remembered from being a boy. It drew him, his presence shifting like a sand dune, to shift and roll and envelop Luke, brushing his presence against him like a familiar tusk cat. Attention and affection but still prowling the area.

Comfortable. He was comfortable. It was strange.

Palpatine absolutely would have killed him. Palpatine would have killed her if he'd ever found out about her. It's why Lord Vader had once broken her jaw for daring to suggest they kill the Emperor first out loud. She hadn't understood at the time, but she does now.

Unconsciously, she rubs her jaw. It doesn't hurt, and doesn't even have memory of the hurt, but it's something she's done whenever someone mentions dying and Palpatine near her.

Then he says not to fuss over him. She laughs again. Her musical laugh ringing out over the little clearing they were in, startling a few birds above them that slowly settled down into their twilight rests. "You are going to love my Mom, if you think I'm fussing." She says, still holding his hand. Her dark eyes look into his blue ones. "But you are Lord Vader's son, and in many ways a lifeline to him." She says, seriously. "That makes me protective of you because I'm protective of him, as much as he allows me to be." Which, in private can range from "get the kriff out" to "let me dote on you endlessly". She's fine with that. But that extends to Luke as well. "That, and I'm a healer." She takes a bite of her peach. "It's in my nature to fuss and hover." She shrugs. "You just have an extra benefit of being closer." She won't say family. Is Lord Vader family? She's never really thought about it before. He's her Lord, and she would do unspeakable things for him... but family, to her, is a nebulous concept.

There's Mom and Dad but they'd started out as Freema and Jocko and she sometimes still calls them that. Are they family? Her biological mother certainly hadn't taught her about the concept. Habani sure as kriff hadn't. So, she doesn't know. She doesn't know what family is really. It's one place where her education has been sorely lacking.

But she can tell, to Lord Vader, this guy is family, is everything. He's managed, in a few short hours to do something she's never managed to do: Make Lord Vader content. She can feel his contentedness. And it makes her happy. Maybe tonight, he'll sleep without the nightmares that often plague him.

"So, I won't apologize, but I will say I'll attempt to do it at a distance for the most part." She promises. It's the most she can give him.

Luke eyes her wryly. "I'm not asking for an apology for you being nice to a stranger," he clarifies. "I just... I know this situation is new. For all of us. I'm just trying to tell you I don't intend to do anything that will endanger either of you."

He just needs to figure out what that means. But he's reaching the end of any brainpower he's ever had, and inspiration isn't going to come to him tonight.

"I just want you to understand I care about him. I know you've...been around longer. But I'm not going to squander the faith he's put in me."

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(sorry about the delay, my brain, y'all)

...i've waited YEARS, literally. you're good.

Dude, it's always cool!

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